Mary
by Kelsey
Summary: When the alien four receives word that a child not yet born is the key to the safety of the world, what will they do? Set in the summer just-post S2, mild Kyle/Isabel.
1. Prologue and Chapter One

****

Mary

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Rating: By chapter.

> CHAPTER ONE--PG-13
> 
> In a suburban town, in a little house, a man watched over an exhausted woman carrying a little child. She was still in her mother's belly, but had already the fate of the world fallen on her shoulders. The man didn't know that, though. He couldn't.
> 
> The thirty-ish individual smiled as the woman, his wife, rolled over in her sleep, reaching out for him. The child, too, stirred, but with far less intent. Perhaps the little girl was dreaming. The man didn't see, couldn't have, but he had seen the slight flutter of a smile on his wife's face when the baby had moved, and he lay back on his bed, his head propped on pillows, intending to spend a while just watching his family, however unborn one of them was, and basking in it.
> 
> He turned his head a little at a slight sound, but didn't think anything of it. Summer had come, and the drapes flapped against the open windows. Through the screen, you could hear many strange sounds that a person had forgotten during the shut-in winter months, the man reasoned. He picked up a book, and started to read, humming softly.
> 
> Suddenly, the screen bowed in, broken as though by a huge weight, and a woman, tall and cut, clearly quite strong, in a black jumpsuit and ski mask flew through it, landing on her feet in the bedroom. The man let out a startled yelp, and his wife awakened, and started to scream.
> 
> The attacker put her hands in front of her, and a low light emanated from them. The woman clutched her stomach, crying out, as the man jumped from the bed and headed for assailant. He was stopped easily with a low side kick, and went down, moaning but not seriously injured. The attacker jumped from the broken screen, and the man lay, still a little in shock, on the floor of their home as his wife continued to cry.
> 
> Perhaps it was the fact that their little girl, who should have never been able to, had looked up at her abductor. Or maybe it was the eyes of the woman. They were the only part of her that showed, and the blue depths had seemed almost... sad... at taking the infant from her parents. But he believed that her kidnapper had meant her no harm.
> 
> Later, when he told this story to the police, they decided that it was a distraught almost-parent, wishing desperately that his child had been taken, and therefore, perhaps reclaimable, instead of wanting to believe the 'truth': that his wife had miscarried. Unusual this late in the pregnancy, but not unheard of. 
> 
> And even if the mysterious woman in black had had something to do with it, there wasn't a lot the law could do. At four months pregnant, the woman could still have legally had an abortion, and at best, the case was unbelievable. There was nothing that could be done.
> 
> Still, the couple continued to believe that their child had been taken, rather than accept that she'd 'died'. 
> 
> ****
> 
> Isabel
> 
> "Max, did we really have to do that?" I asked, as I handed the not-quite infant, perfectly silent, as before, to Liz. I could see Liz concentrating hard to keep the fetus alive, but I knew she could do it. She might not have faith in the powers she gained, but I did.
> 
> I peeled off the ski mask, and unzipped the jumpsuit, revealing my usual fair underneath: A pair of tight leather pants and a halter top. I threw the jumpsuit, with disgust, to the floor, and waved my hand over it, setting the whole thing on fire. It turned into charred ashes in seconds, and I put out the fire with another swipe of my hand.
> 
> "Iz!" Max reprimanded me. "Anyone could have seen that from another car."
> 
> I shrugged. I knew that this, that obeying Max, as a king, was my part in my destiny, but that didn't mean I had to accept it. At least, I think Max was happy that I'd accepted it more than the original part of the destiny thing.
> 
> This baby, however cute she would someday be, was a pain in the ass, though. How the hell was I supposed to tell my parents? And who's really bright idea was it for me to carry it? Oh, that's right, my brother's. It's always his idea, when we do something really stupid, did you notice?
> 
> Max drove like a kamikaze, and I took the fetus back from Liz, pouring all of my energy into keeping the underdeveloped being alive long enough to reach the area we'd decided on, in a little cave in this remote location. Michael twisted himself around in his seat, and touched my hand, lending me his strength.
> 
> The little being was shaped sort of like a human, but was mostly head, with a little body and four little stumps that signified her limbs. Her eyes were closed, not developed yet, and she was encased in a ball of light that was doing it's best to emulate the mother's womb. She was odd-looking, at the best, and I felt more than a little trepidation as I looked upon her.
> 
> We pulled into the parking area, which was deserted this late at night, and ran from the car, Michael and Max doing their best to lend me strength as we ran though the black, on our way to the little rocky indent.
> 
> The ocean whooshed, and the seagulls crowed occasionally, and there were no cars anywhere nearby. I couldn't help thinking that maybe this wasn't such a bad place for a conception. If only it was natural, and little more voluntary. Bowing to the cause of world-saving doesn't really constitute voluntary. It more constitutes wanting the world to continue to exist, even if this was the price.
> 
> We dashed into the rocky cave, and found the so-called 'sacred' circle ready on the floor, Kyle in the middle of it. He wouldn't fit in the car, so we'd left him here, where he could also ready the process, for when we got back.
> 
> Max was, at my request, acting as the conduit. Liz would hold the little fetus, because Max would need Michael's energy. Maria and Kyle, too, could contribute. My brother had promised that this should be as painless as possible, but I wasn't nervous about that. I was more nervous about the parents.
> 
> We'd agreed that Kyle would act as though he were the baby's father, since Sheriff Valenti would be better equipped to act as the baby's grandfather, knowing all that he did. It wouldn't be easy for Kyle, though, and I was grateful that he'd decided to help.
> 
> I lay in middle of the circle, spread-eagle, feet and hands bare, touching Michael, Max, Kyle and Maria each with one of them. Liz stood between my legs, holding the fetus, using much of her energy just to keep it alive.
> 
> Joining hands, Michael, Max, Kyle and Maria closed their eyes. I used my alien powers to ready my body as though I was about to give birth, and the fetus flew off of Liz's hands abruptly, heading for me.
> 
> I'll spare the gory details, but to make a long story short, it hurt. Not the getting pregnant part, but my uterus hadn't had the last four months to naturally stretch, and it complained. Liz and Maria sympathized, telling me all about menstrual cramps, something that, being an alien, I've never had. I just simply tune out pretty much any function of my body when it becomes annoying.
> 
> Doubled over, holding my stomach, I managed to make the car, and we made the long drive home. I took two sleeping pills, my powers drained, and I don't remember much of it. Just that it was down to a dull , rather strong, but dull, ache when I awoke, rather than the sharp, constant pain, it had been.
> 
> ****
> 
> Kyle
> 
> I never said this, alright, but I kind of like Isabel. In the romantic sense. I'm not ready for a relationship now, not right after Tess's betrayal, and I know she isn't, she's still in mourning for Alex, but someday, I think we could be good together. So forgive me if it didn't take long for me to agree to pretend to be the father of her child. I think Max and Michael see right through me sometimes, but they've never said anything, so we're still good that way. 
> 
> It was odd to see Liz act like one of the bunch. She has these weird abilities, now, not really entirely like the aliens, but not entirely unlike them, too. She's healed some small wounds, and stuff, is all. But today, she held that fetus, that _child_, and she kept it alive, long before it could possibly survive on its own.
> 
> I've never tried to develop my abilities, but Max says I probably have some, if I knew where to look. They're probably within the realm of what he can do, he says, but who knows what he can do? He's said himself that he has a lot of powers that he isn't sure what they are or do. Wouldn't that be weird, to have something in your head that you didn't know what it did? Like an unlabeled button on a switchboard.
> 
> I wished desperately that I could do something when I saw Isabel in so much pain earlier, coming out of the cave. I wanted to be near her, to lend her my strength, just as a friend, but a good friend, but Max and Michael took their usual places at her sides too quickly. They've always been protective of her, questioning her abilities. I never do that. If Iz says to stand back, I stand back.
> 
> I sat in the back of my car, letting Max drive. Michael took shotgun, and Maria and Liz were driving Maria's mother's Jetta back. Isabel slumped on me when she fell lightly asleep, still holding her stomach. I nestled her onto my chest, and gently moved her hands from their death grip on her gently swelled belly.
> 
> After long moments, she moaned and reached down to hold her stomach again. I pushed her hands gently away, and started to rub her rounded mid-section. Her eyes fluttered open for just a second, checking on who I was, and then she fell into a deeper sleep, apparently reassured. 
> 
> We got back, and woke up Izzy. She changed slowly, haltingly, into a pair of jeans and a baggy shirt. Max helped her into the house, and I left, alone in the car. Maria and Liz had stopped to get Michael a block from the Evans' house.
> 
> I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Probably the only thing I'm sure of, is it won't be boring.
> 
> ****
> 
> Max
> 
> I got Izzy settled in bed, and she fell asleep pretty fast, her knees curled to her stomach in a fetal position. I covered her slightly with blankets, hoping my mother didn't come in and find out by accident. But, either way, we were explaining to our parents tomorrow. About Iz's pregnancy, not about the alien thing.
> 
> Isabel still believes that our parents will love us, treat us the same way, if they know we came from another planet in this large universe. She can't see that no one else ever did. Granted, the different way that Liz, Maria and Alex treat, and treated us wasn't bad different, but it was different. And therein lies the potential for our parents to shut us out. To deny us, to even turn us in. 
> 
> I've been tortured once. I won't put myself in a position where I might be again.
> 
> I don't blame Izzy for wanting to tell, for thinking that there's nothing out there worse than the pain of keeping a secret from those closest to you on this earth, and I don't blame her for not knowing. I'd do anything to spare her the pain of what I went through. But she wasn't there, I was. And I won't put any of us in a position where that could happen, again.
> 
> Night takes over quickly, and I fall asleep. In the morning, I awake to a tugging on my arm. Opening sleepy eyes, I look up into my sister's face, much less pulled and tired-looking with the sleep that she's gotten, and the rejuvenation of her powers. I know she has hers back, because I can feel mine once more.
> 
> "What, Iz?" I moan.
> 
> "Mom and Dad are leaving for that lawyer thing at eleven, remember? We've got to go talk to them, now."
> 
> I groan at the idea. I may be an alien king, but I'm still a teenager, and I like my sleep. Reluctantly, I pull my head out of the pillow and make eye contact with my sister. "Okay."
> 
> "Good. Kyle will be here in about ten minutes. Be downstairs, maybe eating breakfast, or something. I don't want you too involved in this."
> 
> I snort. God, I'm starting to sound like Michael and Iz. "Not too involved? This was my idea, Iz."
> 
> She shrugs, then turns her stare commanding. "Stay out of the crossfire, Max. I mean it."
> 
> No one can order me around. Or, at least, they shouldn't. But my sister, when she acts like this, leaves no room for negotiation. "Alright, Isabel." Then, as she leaves, "Crossfire?"
> 
> *******
> 
> Fifteen minutes later, right on schedule, the silence of the silent breaks in the living room with my father's exclamation of "How could you?"
> 
> I sneak away from the table, and stand in the doorway, just watching the exchange. I want to protect my sister, but if this is going to work, it has to go as we planned. I watch as Kyle wraps an arm around Isabel.
> 
> He cares about her, I know that. I'm not sure how, exactly, but he's a good friend, and wouldn't hurt her. That's all I really care about right now. I think I've finally learned that my sister's, and Michael's, and the love lives of all the people I know, are no one's business but their own.
> 
> Not that I wouldn't dive in in a second if I didn't think that Kyle Valenti had honorable intentions regarding my sister.
> 
> Of course, considering that I'm allowing them, and even encouraging them, to masquerade as though they are about to be young teen parents, the definition of honorable that I'm using may be foreign to some.

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	2. Chapter Two

****

Mary

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc. Alanis Morissette's song obviously isn't mine.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Author's Note: If you read my stuff, you know that I have a thing with Isabel sleeping on Alex's grave. I'll try to stop, I swear.

Rating: By chapter.

> CHAPTER TWO--PG-13
> 
> ****
> 
> Kyle
> 
> The only thing I can think of right now is, 'Man, I'm glad my dad won't be this pissed'. 
> 
> 'Course, he still has to pretend to be, for the Evans' sake, and that won't be pretty, either, I'm sure. 
> 
> Isabel throws a quick glance over her shoulder when her parents aren't looking, and I see Max move quickly from the doorway to the kitchen. Great. The alien king is looking in on us, seeing how good a job of acting we do.
> 
> I said earlier that I didn't mind doing this. And I don't. For Isabel. For Max, that's another story. Max would be alone out in the rain, without my help, if it weren't for his beautiful, kind-hearted, smart-mouthed, all-around wonderful sister.
> 
> Diane Evans is kind of looking shocked, and Max and Isabel's father is livid. I really hope this doesn't turn out as bad as I think it might. Isabel has a hard enough time with her family life. I might not understand this alien thing, but I understand what it's like not to be able to tell your parents something.
> 
> Doesn't every teenager?
> 
> "Well, what are you going to do about it?" Asks Phil Evans. I'll give the man credit, he didn't go on with the usual parental spiel of "How did this happen?" (To which the proper answer is, "Didn't they teach you about the birds and bees in school?"), and "I can't believe you were so irresponsible!" (To which you either hang your head, or explain why you weren't irresponsible, and it wasn't your fault that the condom broke, etc.)
> 
> Don't get me wrong, I don't have any experience in this matter, at least not personally, but I know a lot of people in school, and most people know me, and lots of people come to me with their problems. Like I can fix them with a wave of my hand, just because I'm a hot-shot football player. (So, _so_ many times I've wanted to blurt out that that's Max and Isabel's department.)
> 
> "We're going to keep it," Isabel tells her father forcefully. Diane Evans looks like she's slowly returning to the land of the living, and I don't know whether to be grateful for her possible intervention, or afraid for my life, now that there are two of them.
> 
> "How are you going to raise it? You don't even have a job, Isabel! And what about college?"
> 
> Forget what I said about respecting him for not going on a spiel.
> 
> "Whoa, one question at a time, Dad." Isabel looks to me, obviously not really sure what to say about the money issues. Let's just say that it isn't really an issue, another perk of being an alien.
> 
> "I have a job, Mr. Evans. And Isabel _will_ go to college. You have my word."
> 
> "Well, that's not worth a hell of a lot right now, is it?" He spits out.
> 
> This really bites.
> 
> "Dad!" I can't believe Isabel Evans is sticking up for lowly me. My life might be complete. No, that's right, I'm Kyle Valenti, not Alex Whitman. But I must admit, I'm really beginning to understand what came over him when he puppy-dogged after her for forever.
> 
> "No, Iz, it's okay. I know he must not have a real high opinion of me right now, and I understand.
> 
> "But, Mr. and Mrs. Evans, I love your daughter." I don't miss the little light-up in Isabel's eyes, followed by a crash, perhaps remembering Alex. I wish this charade didn't have to bring her so much pain.
> 
> "And I don't want to bring anything bad to her. We'll figure this out, I promise. Isabel will go to college, and we will raise this child in a comfortable life-style. He or she won't be raised in poverty, I promise."
> 
> "How can you promise that? You don't know what the future will bring! Obviously, since you wouldn't have slept with my daughter if you had!"
> 
> God, I wish I had. Slept with his daughter, that is.
> 
> "My father can get me a job on the force that'll pay well enough, if I don't find something else. Isabel graduates early, she has a year, or even two before she has to go to college. She won't be any older than the rest of them. And if all else fails, I promise we'll put this child up for adoption. We only want what's best for it."
> 
> That last part was a lie, by the way. The adoption part. But I needed to reassure the Evans' somehow.
> 
> Max is still skulking the doorway, a bowl of cereal in one hand, and Mrs. Evans finally notices him. "Max?" She asks. "What are you doing up?"
> 
> Max shrugs. "I don't know. Hungry, I guess."
> 
> She gives him a tense smile. "Boys will be boys," She tells her husband, who barely acknowledges her. "Go back to bed, Max. We're talking with your sister, and her boyfriend."
> 
> Max nods, and heads for the stairs, eating as he goes. I, for one, am grateful we're rid of our little eavesdropper. I dislike the guy enough, I don't need him listening in on this particular discussion, even if he did orchestrate it.
> 
> Mr. Evans returns his attention to me. "Have you told your father yet?" He asks. 
> 
> I really hate this.
> 
> ****
> 
> Isabel
> 
> Sheriff Valenti is really way too good an actor.
> 
> "How could you let this happen, Kyle? I mean, I remember being seventeen, I expected you'd do some experimenting, but I thought you were responsible enough to be careful about it!"  
"We were careful about 'it', Dad."
> 
> Kyle and Max had orchestrated this whole deal, and simply briefed me as quickly as possible. I'm supposed to just go along, as best as I can, with whatever they say. I can only be grateful for this idea of Max's, I don't need the rep as a complete slut at school to go along with all the rest of my problems.
> 
> "Not careful enough, apparently!"
> 
> I know I must be throwing off waves of anxiety, which the adults probably think nothing of, knowing that I'm in a difficult position, to say the least, but Kyle seems to sense them, and knows that they aren't about our current situation. He glances at me, and I can see the pain he feels, the sympathy for my pain, reflected in his eyes.
> 
> "It isn't our fault the damn condom broke, Dad!" He's really angry now, channeling his sympathy for my hurt into anger. I admire his capabilities as an actor, and am equally surprised to see that he picked up on how I was feeling at all. Max wouldn't have, not that fast, anyway.
> 
> I'm not completely ignorant. I know Kyle has a 'thing' for me, as Maria puts it. He feels something for me, I know, but stops it at friendship and protection, some things that I can't really be anything but grateful for right now. 
> 
> And I can't deny that I feel something for him, too. Maybe someday, maybe one day, I'll be healed enough to let another into my heart. But I can feel, it won't be soon.
> 
> The conversation goes on around me as I retreat into my head, but I take little note. The sheriff and Kyle's voices escalate, their pretend fight heating with real anger and anxiety and nervous tension, and I know they're putting on a more than believable show for my parents, who are silent spectators from the kitchen doorway. I note silently to myself that they are now lurking much the same way as I know my brother was earlier, on their version of the conversation.
> 
> Finally, Max intervenes, and Kyle and the sheriff calm reluctantly, looking vaguely suspicious for having let their act get so out of hand, but still, I barely register they're arranging for this to continue the next day, after everyone's had a chance to think. I go willingly with my brother out the door, and into the family car.
> 
> Halfway home, I realize that I don't want to go there. I've seen, heard, smelled enough of that cramped little space to last me a lifetime, and all I want is out. "Dad, can you pull over?" I ask.
> 
> He does so, and my mother twists around in the seat, looking towards me and Max. "Are you alright, Izzy? Do you feel okay?" They've been really protective of me since they learned about my 'condition', yesterday.
> 
> I smile reassuringly. "I'm fine, Mom. I just need some air. Maria's house isn't far from here, I think I'll walk there, and then I'm sure she can give me a ride home." I have little intention of going to Maria's, but maybe it will reassure my mother.
> 
> She looks concerned, but nods. "Okay, but be careful, Isabel. You have your pepper spray?" They bought it for me when they noticed me going out at night a lot, back about a year or two ago. Of course, they couldn't possibly know that I have powers beyond anything a can of pressurized cayenne pepper could possibly give a person.
> 
> I nod, pulling it out of my purse to show her. "Right here, Mom." I smile. "Don't worry about me, Mom, I might crash at Maria's if it gets late. I'll see you by the morning, though." Again, I have no intention of doing as I have stated, but it clears my calendar. If I want to walk all night, or go dancing, or even get smashed drunk, they won't worry. Not that I would do that.
> 
> She smiles, and nods. "Okay, Izzy. We'll see you tomorrow, then." She reaches back, and pats my shoulder gently, then I open the door and get out, walking briskly down the street in the general direction of Maria's home.
> 
> As soon as their car disappears, I stop. Originally, I'd planned to go walking for a much longer time, but then I realized that I was on Maria's doorstep, and I might as well go see if she wants to talk, or join me, or something. I'm tired of being lonely, and Maria and Liz don't hate me as much as they used to. Someday, we might even consider each other friends. Imagine that.
> 
> I'm about to knock on Maria's window when I hear voices from inside. One of them is high-pitched and obviously Maria's, the other is lower, male, and painfully familiar. I smile a little, sadly, as I watch them bitch and complain at each other, as always, and then Michael's shadow in the window blinds takes two quick steps towards Maria, and they're kissing like their lives depend on it.
> 
> I used to feel that way, about someone. Now, all I feel is pain, when I see a couple like that. I don't want to, but I can't seem to help it. Alex is gone, and sometimes I feel like I'll never be whole again. 
> 
> You know that Alanis Morissette song, where it says 'I don't want to be your other half, I believe that one and one make 2'?
> 
> Well, I used to believe that, too.
> 
> ****
> 
> Michael
> 
> Isabel is outside Maria's window, but I know Maria is blissfully unaware. She continues to act as though I'm her worst enemy, slinging curses and insults in my direction faster than I can think of counters. She's mad for no particular reason I can determine, but such is Maria. 
> 
> In fact, I doubt she's really mad at all. I think she's scared, but she admits that about as often as I do. Which is pretty much, once a millennium or so. We both do most of our real, emotional talking, with our mouths shut. Or at least, planted firmly on each other's lips. 
> 
> I want to take her in my arms, and kiss her until she doesn't remember what it's like to be scared, can't fathom that there is such a thing, but Isabel is still outside the window. I wonder, silently, if I should go and help her with whatever it is that she came to Maria for, but I can feel the emotions radiating off of her, and they're of sadness, painfully deep sadness that I know I can do nothing about. 
> 
> I wonder whether to go to Isabel, just sit with her, and be there for her, but then I realize that I can do nothing for her, and I _can_ help Maria's fear. My time is better spent reassuring my anxious girlfriend, than doing something that I'm notoriously bad at: Attempting to comfort someone I can do nothing for. 
> 
> I take a couple of fast steps towards Maria, who is still gesturing wildly with her hands, stepping back and forth nervously, though not seeming to make any conscious effort to get out of my way, and gather her up in my arms. I kiss her hard, letting off after a few seconds, letting her decide whether to continue. She stands still for a moment, and then a feel a soft, wet tongue tracing the outline of my lips, dipping between them gently.
> 
> I open my mouth eagerly, and she delves inside, pushing her body tighter against mine as she does so. I doubt this will go much further tonight, even though her mother isn't home, because we've all become much too acutely aware of what the threat of pregnancy really is lately, what with Isabel. 
> 
> But I can feel her curves pressed against my body, seated just right against my hard muscle, and I remember almost strongly enough to call them flashes, that wonderful night we spent together, marred only by my memories of the grief and pain that I felt throughout the whole thing.
> 
> That was the best, and the worst night of my life, all at the same time.
> 
> ****
> 
> Max
> 
> It's five in the morning, and Isabel isn't back. I know she told Mom and Dad that she might stay at Maria's but I'm not that dense, I know there's no possible way she's at the DeLuca's house, and I know I have to find her before Mom awakes and calls Maria.
> 
> At first, as I sneak silently out of the house, I have no idea where to look for her, unaware of where she might spend this much time, in the middle of the night. So, I crawl quietly into her room, looking for insight into her mind, and the first thing I see, is the walls, plastered from top to bottom with pictures of Alex.
> 
> I find her, asleep on Alex's grave. She's lying on her side, one hand pressed against the metal placard on his gravestone, and the other protectively curled around her belly. I know she can take care of herself, pregnant or not, but I can't help being a little worried about the fact that she spent the night, alone in a graveyard.
> 
> I just watch her for a long moment, and then give her a gentle shake. "Iz."
> 
> She moans, and turns a little. Then her face lights up, truly lights up, more than I think I've seen it, for so long. "Alex," She mumbles, and my heart breaks for her again. I was his friend, but I'm only beginning to understand how deeply my sister cared for him.
> 
> "Isabel," I ask. "Izzy, wake up."
> 
> She opens her eyes, and looks up at me, the tears falling fast, the light fading faster, as she registers that this once again, only a dream. I let her lie there, just pressing her body into the ground, as though she can get closer to Alex that way, for a long twenty minutes.
> 
> Then I pull her from her position, telling her we have to get home, have to go home, or Mom will worry. 
> 
> "Isabel, I know you're sad, but you don't want to worry Mom and Dad, do you? Besides, it isn't a very good idea to sleep on a grave, even if you are an alien." God, that doesn't sound like me. I act as though I'm speaking to a child, something which I never do.
> 
> But Isabel only nods, and rises from the ground slowly. We make the walk home in silence, but when we get there, she looks at herself, looking a little more like the ever critical Izzy that I knew before Alex died. "I'd better clean up," She says, and I back off, giving her room to do her magic.
> 
> She waves a hand over her body, and the dirt disappears. Then she waves her other hand over her hair, and it goes back to the way it was, everything perfectly coiffed. Painfully, she puts a smile on her face, and I help her in her window. "Night, Max," She says. 
> 
> "Night, Izzy." I'm going back to bed, and I guess she is too, since there's no school. I have a feeling that even if she didn't need her rest, she'd still sleep. She's gotten awfully depressed lately, since we stopped having things to think about constantly, and started having time for her to dwell.
> 
> I need to talk to Michael, figure something out, because I'm getting worried about her. 

[[1][2]] [2]

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	3. Chapter Three

****

Mary

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Rating: By chapter.

> CHAPTER THREE--PG-13
> 
> ****
> 
> Liz
> 
> God, I envy Isabel. Not for the position she's in, but for being brave enough to do it. I told Max that, and he told me that I would be brave enough, too, but I don't know. It hurt me enough to do as Future Max told me. This time, I might have said, "Screw the world!"
> 
> She and Maria have been talking, and though Maria's still uncertain, I think she and Isabel are starting to see each other through a new light. Maria's also a little more confident, now that Michael seems to have claimed her as his own. I can't believe she slept with an alien, but then, I shouldn't talk, because if it weren't for parents, it would probably have been me, more than a year ago.
> 
> And if that's what sleeping with the person you love brings you, I can't wait! I mean, they barely leave each other's sides, now. Maria is forever telling me to cover for her, and I think she's spent more nights 'at my house' this month, than in the last year! We told her mother that we have a big project with Max, Isabel and Kyle, and that we've been working on it.
> 
> But Maria knows she's going to have to cut back on the nights that she spends at Michael's soon, because if she doesn't, sooner or later, one of my parents is going to pick up the phone and say, "What? Maria's not here."
> 
> I could never imagine doing what she did, either. I'm not talking entirely about the sex, though I do find it a little scary that she went into that experience without knowing what would happen. But Maria's like that, she's always spontaneous. And she's fine, so I'm trying not to worry.
> 
> But mostly, I'm talking about sharing yourself with someone like that. I don't know, maybe I'm over dramatizing things, maybe sex is the physical, and love is something separate, but when Max and I were about to... it felt like everything would change when we took that step. The world would spin a different way.
> 
> And it could have. The things you learn when your boyfriend is a 'Czechoslovakian'. 
> 
> Isabel called me a few minutes ago, and told me she needed some 'remembering time' but she didn't want to be alone. She told me to dig out all the old things I have of him, and she'd bring hers. I can identify. Sometimes I want to think about Alex so desperately, but I just know it's going to make me cry, and I don't want to be alone in my room.
> 
> The parents aren't much help. So I know how she feels, and I think it's good that she wants to get together and talk, and remember, and cry. Because sometimes I feel so selfish, not wanting to think about one of my best friends, just because it makes me sad. I feel like I'm not honoring his memory, or something, since I'm not thinking about him.
> 
> I hope this helps her. 
> 
> I hope this helps me, too.
> 
> ****
> 
> Kyle
> 
> It's been two weeks since the big event, and Isabel's beginning to resemble a girl who swallowed a pillow, or a whale, or even the world. I don't mean that in a derogatory way, though, I find her oddly attractive with her stomach rounding gently outward. It's odd, but I guess it's something biological. Or maybe I'm just weird.
> 
> The male instinct of protectiveness has flared up with a vengeance, too, and poor Isabel has to deal with me thinking she can't take care of herself, all while trying to do just that. God. I'm not much help right now, so I've asked her to tell me when I can do something, anything, but so far, she hasn't come to me.
> 
> I'm lying on the couch, a book on my lap, waiting for something interesting to come on TV, or my father to get home, or just, something to happen. I hope someone rings the doorbell. God, I'm bored. I could go the local gym, and use their pool, because I'm hot, too, but I try to stay out of the spotlight now that I'm the hated 'son of a bitch who got the Evans girl pregnant!'
> 
> (That was some old man, who apparently knows Mr. and Mrs. Evans' parents. Thankfully, I slipped out before things got ugly.)
> 
> Needless to say, I don't spend too much time at their house these days, either. At least when I'm there, though, I don't think I'm in immediate mortal danger.
> 
> A knock on the door startles me, but I'm insanely grateful for the distraction. All I do these days is think, and it's not really in my nature to do that. I'm more of a doing person than a thinking person, but being a functioning human member of the 'I know an alien club' requires a lot of heavy brain use.
> 
> I rise slowly from the couch where I still sleep, unable to face Tess's room, and head for the door, calling, "I'm coming!"
> 
> The last person I expected to see is on my doorstep, but I open it quickly, and bring her in. She's crying, hard, and I feel a strong urge to comfort her. Experimentally, I put an arm over her shoulders. She doesn't move away, and I lead her to the couch, kicking my book off to make enough space.
> 
> "Iz, what's wrong?" I ask gently.
> 
> She sobs harder, and again, I wish desperately that I could do something. "Isabel?"
> 
> She looks at her hands in her lap, and starts to choke out her problems. "I... wanted to go swimming," She tells me, and I nod to show her that I'm listening.
> 
> "I put on my bathing suit... and I looked in the mirror... and I just looked so... fat and ugly!"
> 
> I put my other arm around her, and pull her closer to me. She doesn't resist.
> 
> "But, I told myself... that I was _going_ to the pool... so I did... but when I got there, everyone started whispering, and staring and..." She trails off into incoherent, heart-breaking sobbing coughs.
> 
> "Shh, Iz, it'll be okay," I soothe her. I mutter nonsense comforts under my breathe to her for long moments, and then she quiets, calming bit by bit.
> 
> She looks up, her face streaked with tears, my shoulder wet. "Oh, God, Kyle, I'm sorry," She says, trying to get away. I let her go, but when she makes for the door, I call her.
> 
> "Isabel!"
> 
> She turns, refusing to look me in the eye.
> 
> "It's okay. Really. Stay, please?"
> 
> She seems to weigh her options for a long moment, and then nods, still a little shy. "Okay. But I have to be home for dinner."
> 
> "Sure. But for now, do you have your bathing suit, Isabel?"
> 
> She nods again, looking a little anxious.
> 
> "Why don't you go put it on?" I ask of her. She looks hesitant, but complies. "The bathroom's right there. Meet me outside," I tell her, and she nods silently, again.
> 
> She disappears, and I wander into Tess's room, trying not to look at anything, grab my swim trunks, and go out. I disrobe quickly, in the side yard in case Isabel comes out, faster than expected, and pull them on. 
> 
> I pull over a very, very old sprinkler head that swivels on a base, and then the hose, into the middle of our yard. I hook them up, make sure that they're working, and then wait on the deck for Isabel.
> 
> She comes out moments later, looking beautiful, but painfully shy about her appearance. It's true, her pregnancy has changed the way she looks, but not in a bad way. Her breasts have enlarged a little, and they fill her bikini top. Her stomach pushes out of the lower half of her suit, but she's beautiful, so beautiful, and I fight to keep from staring.
> 
> I walk up to her, and take her hand. She follows me, then starts to balk a little as we head for the sprinkler. "Kyle," She says, not really asking a question, but not really making a statement, either.
> 
> "It's okay," I reassure her. Then, with a sudden movement, I run into the spray, pulling her with me. She shrieks in surprise, and a smile wraps over my face. 
> 
> "It's cold!" She accuses me.
> 
> I smile. "Yeah, but it's a hot day. Thus, this is a good thing."
> 
> She looks at me with a straight face for a long moment, and I hope I'm not about to get my ass kicked. Then, she smiles, and grabs my hand, and I know I'm home free.
> 
> ****

THREE MONTHS LATER

Isabel

God, I can hardly move. And this is only seven and a half months in. I can't imagine carrying this child around for another month and a half, she's already causing my stomach to be about 700% of it's usual size.

But I'm not going to whine. So, on a completely different note, I got my high school diploma in the summer, because I wasn't really sure what would happen when the baby was born. Now, I'm glad I did, because I certainly don't want to be gallivanting around school with this belly. Did I mention I can't wait until she's born?

Max has 'allowed' me and Kyle to name this child. We know she's a girl, and we've decided to call her Mary. Mary like the virgin Mary, because, like her, this child is going to be a person of great importance. Who knows, maybe two thousand years from now, the story of this Mary, my Mary, will be intertwined in a religion just as the virgin Mary's is.

After all, the people of earth, the ones lucky enough not to know about the extraterrestrial battle that's being waged on their own grounds, have to make up some excuse for all the unexplainable things that happen, right? Not every person is Fox Mulder, and wants to believe. In fact, most of them would rather remain ignorant.

Have I mentioned that I watch a little too much of the X-Files, being here at home by myself nearly every day?

Kyle's been really good for me. He never seems to run out of patience, and he's always around to comfort me even when my brother can't take it anymore. God knows, Michael's always the first one to give up. If he ever tries at all in the first place. But I don't blame him, that's just his way. He's not good with emotions.

With the possibly exception of Maria. Regarding everything. And maybe anger and lust, pre-Maria. But he's not good with the softer emotions, like sadness and fear and stress and love, and never has been.

A summer job at the Crashdown, something I never, ever thought I'd do, is partially responsible for me and Kyle having enough money to rent a little apartment. Barely more than a studio. But it serves our needs, and it will serve Mary's, when she joins our little family.

I still don't know why I did this. I must have been really ditzed up. Why couldn't Liz or Maria carry this child? Oh, right, because they're human. Well, yippy-yay for aliens. Think we get to have all the fun? Try being seven months pregnant with the child who's going to save the world.

Sorry. I'm just a little moody, in case you haven't noticed. But it's time to go to work, and the Crashdown awaits. Another wonderful day of having my stomach stared at, just the thing to brighten my slump.

****

Maria

Isabel showed up at the Crashdown on time, as usual. She gripes and complains and picks fights with me and Michael and sends insults Michael's way and otherwise annoys the entire workforce, but she shows up on time, and I have to give her credit for having the most amazing amount of patience with the customers.

The uniform we give her has to be unbuttoned in the middle to allow her stomach out, so she wears a white leotard underneath it. But she's forever complaining she has to be the hottest person in the state. Which, mind you, is not true. Poor Michael works over a grill all afternoon.

I guess you can see why we don't always... co-exist amicably. 

Liz just came in the door, panting from running, and dripping with sweat. Also, I might add, with suspiciously smudged lipstick all over her face. I hope things are slow tonight, because I need to interrogate her, majorly.

And, yes, here comes the last of our wayward employees, and also today's latest, at fifteen minutes past his shift start. He wanders in at his usual slow amble, and is about to kiss me when Mr. Parker walks in, and sends a little glare our way. Oh, yes. The infamous 'no-fraternizing while working' policy.

Like he ever stopped Liz and I from chatting. Personally, I think he's having trouble with me being a little older than eight. Or maybe nine. Because that would mean that his own daughter is also growing up, a thing worse than death. 

And getting pretty thoroughly kissed, if the lipstick is any indication. 

Michaels stomps off towards the changing room, denied his usual pre-work grope session by Liz's father's presence, and Liz and I pull on our antennae. Mr. Parker stays long enough to chastise us for being late, which, by the way, I wasn't, and tell Isabel that she needs a new uniform, and to pick up the next biggest size from him tomorrow.

Maybe work will be better. I wander out into the restaurant, looking around at the current staff. All decent enough people, and currently fighting about who gets to take off now that I'm here. 

And, oh, look, there's the local jock crowd, minus Kyle, which might have made them tolerable, waiting to try to cop a feel from one of us. They may use their crotch for a brain, but they're not completely ignorant. In fact, they know very well when the three 'babes', as they like to call us, on their good days, come on duty. 

And since we're the only three working this shift, they can't lose, right? 

Isabel ends up serving them, which is bad for her, but good for me and Liz, at least. Sometimes I feel like we should keep a tally sheet on who's turn it is to go over there and try not to get mauled. Except that me and Liz do actually try to do it more often than Isabel, because some of those guys have some really perverted thing about pregnant women.

Apparently, she's tired of them, because she hauls back and slaps one of them when he grabs at her backside. I clap with Liz, glad that one of those apes finally got what was coming to them, but I also hope to God that Mr. Parker is not still around. I did that once, slap a guy, in ninth grade, to some jerk who'd tried to put his hand on my breast, and I almost got fired. Only Liz's influence on her father had saved me, and Isabel doesn't have that.

I'm also glad that the guy didn't end up a flaming cinder, or maybe ashes, because with the mood she's in, combined with what Michael calls 'pregnancy irrationality', I don't trust her to care who finds out about her powers. That's why she's only allowed to be on when Michael's here, because he has the best chance of concealing some kind of... explosion.

Hopefully, not in the literal sense.

Max just showed up, and is sitting in the front, at a table I'm sure he knows is oddly enough, placed so that a waitress has to go by it to get to almost every table in the place. And not only does Liz go by it, she stops every single time, too. Michael doesn't improve the situation by trying to solve it with some mild profanity, which gets major glares from the parents of a couple of children in the back.

I'm their server, so they look to me, and I shrug helplessly back. What am I supposed to say? That that doofus is my boyfriend, and I'm hopelessly in love with him? I don't think so. They'll never come back. But when I get a chance, I do go behind the curtain, and chew Michael out.

He asks me why I don't tell the parents to get the sticks out of their asses. I groan, recognizing his impossible mood, and stomp away to act sugar-sweet to some other annoyed, restless customer.

God, this is going to be a long day. 

[[1][2]] [[2][3]] [3]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][4]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][5]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	4. Chapter Four

****

Mary

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Rating: By chapter.

> CHAPTER FOUR--PG-13
> 
> ****
> 
> Michael
> 
> I don't know why I have to work this hot, sweaty, annoying shift in the middle of the day, in the middle of the god-damn summer.
> 
> It might have something to do with the fact that Isabel, while doing something undoubtedly heroic, has become a total bitch, and might do something stupid, which I would then need to use my powers to cover up.
> 
> Fun, huh?
> 
> Plus, Mr. Parker didn't let me kiss Maria before shift.
> 
> Guess which one's making me more upset.
> 
> Well, currently, neither. Currently, the fact that my girlfriend is practically screaming in my face for using just a little bit of language to get Liz off her butt. Apparently, it pissed off some customers with kids in the back, in Maria's section, who are normally good tippers.
> 
> She didn't even kiss me when she was done screaming at me, this time. It's really gonna take a while to dig myself out of this hole.
> 
> ****
> 
> Isabel
> 
> Well, day is done at the Crashdown cafe, and it's time to go home and crash in front of the television for like, the sixtieth day in a row. 
> 
> I should get out. I should go have some fun. But the problem is, even for me, who prides herself on not caring what other people think, it's a little hard to continue having said fun with people laughing and staring and pointing at you from eight different directions at once.
> 
> Well, maybe not laughing.
> 
> Michael calls this 'pregnancy irrationality'. He claims that it means that I make things five times more important than they really are. He blames it on my hormones. I told him to try it.
> 
> He said he'd rather not, and I pointed out then that he had no basis for telling me anything about my condition.
> 
> I wonder how long he's going to sulk on that one.
> 
> Anyway, I should call Kyle. Maybe we could do something. That might alleviate this boredom. 
> 
> But the problem with the way I'm getting closer to Kyle is, that every time I go to laugh with him, or smile at him, or god forbid, maybe kiss him, which I haven't done yet, but have desperately wanted to, all I can see is Alex's face.
> 
> And the awful thing is, he wants me to move on. He tells me that it's good for me, that what I'm doing is the right thing. That I can't cling to a memory forever.
> 
> I guess that means that _I'm_ just not ready.
> 
> I hope I get ready soon, though. Kyle won't wait forever, I learned that from Alex, and I don't want to lose him, too, especially to myself. That would be unbearable.
> 
> Mary's kicking me. She wants something, I can tell. I don't know what it is, but I know I'd better get it, or I'll be uncomfortable all night. After all, she doesn't have to sleep at night, she can just lay there all day.
> 
> I finally appease her when I get up and take a short jog. My doctor told me to stop running, but I figured, he doesn't know I have an alien constitution, he hasn't got the faintest idea what he's talking about. So, I still go out for a quick run every once in a while.
> 
> ********
> 
> Max climbed into his window at five, this morning, and I was waiting for him. Mary likes to get up good and early, and we often see the dawn. So, when my brother wasn't around, I waited for him. I figured I had nothing else to do.
> 
> He looks up at me, obviously startled. "Isabel!" He hisses in a loud whisper.
> 
> "Max!" I mimic back in a soft voice. 
> 
> He throws off his shirt, and I turn my back while he changes back into his nightwear. "What are you doing?" He asks.
> 
> "I couldn't sleep. Mary likes me to see the dawn. I came to check on you, and you weren't here, so I waited. It's not like there's anything good on television at 5 am, you know."
> 
> Max turns around, and I turn back to face him. "So, what were you doing out at this wonderful hour?" I ask.
> 
> "I was with Liz," He answers distractedly. Then, his head pops up as he realizes what it sounds like. "Not... not like that. Just sitting with her." His eyes go unfocused, and he stares into space, as though in a trance. "You know how wonderful it can feel just to watch someone sleep, Isabel? Someone you love?"
> 
> I nod mutely, tears cracking in the sides of my eyes, but my brother doesn't notice. Max goes on, oblivious.
> 
> "It's like nothing else. There are no words to describe it. It's peaceful and quiet and calm and you just feel like you're the only two people on earth."
> 
> I nod again, still silent. The tears fall down my cheeks now, but I don't make a sound. I'm sad, but I'm almost enjoying this time to reminisce on the positive aspects of my relationship with Alex. Sometimes, I don't think enough about the good things we had, getting tied down in all the pain and anguish his death caused.
> 
> My brother looks up finally, and sees my crying. His face falls instantly, and he stands as quickly. "God, Isabel, I'm sorry. That was so careless... I didn't mean to hurt you, Iz." He tries to hug me, but I push him away gently, smiling softly.
> 
> "It's okay, Max. It's good for me to think about the happy. Pretty often, I only remember the sad." I smile a little more firmly, trying to reassure him. "I don't want to remember him like that. So thank you, Max."
> 
> He looks me over, and I turn to leave. "You sure you're okay, Iz?" He asks one more time.
> 
> I nod. "I'm sure. Get some sleep, Max, I know you've been up all night." I close the door behind me, allowing him the space to rest, and return to my stash of videos. Sometimes, it feels like they're all there is to do around here.
> 
> ****
> 
> Kyle
> 
> It's quiet here, in the morning hours. I don't venture into Tess's room, not wanting to evoke all that confusion, churning around so hard in my head. Sure, I feel anger, but I feel love, too, and betrayal, and denial. So, mostly, I just feel confusion.
> 
> There's a picture of the six of us at Prom night. We all look so happy. I can't believe that there's a murderer, a thief of hearts, and a person with that kind of capacity to betray, on my arm.
> 
> And I don't believe there is.
> 
> I think that Tess is, what in humans, we would call split personality. I've been thinking about it, and there are times when she's just so genuine, so sincere. And then there are the moments that kind of make me go, "Huh?" now that I'm looking back on it. The moments when she seemed like herself, but not quite.
> 
> I think that her desire to be a part of something here was warring with her history, her childhood, and Nasedo's advice so hard that she couldn't cope. So, she became these people.
> 
> Unfortunately, I don't think we'll ever learn if I'm right, and the Pod Squad is so mad, that I really don't think it would be wise to bring up my idea. In fact, it's never a good idea to say anything about Tess. Her name is the forbidden word in our circles.
> 
> Still, if she ever does come back, will I ever be able to forgive her? Even if Max, Michael and Isabel can help her control her evil side, will I be able to look her in the face, after she killed the one guy I could identify with, and made me carry him over my arm like a piece of luggage?
> 
> The memory churns my stomach, and I want to throw up. Sometimes I do, I just let myself retch, but my father is home, and I don't want to alert him to how I feel. He'd probably send me back to the school counselor.
> 
> I don't know why he thinks that's going to help. He's much more in the know than any of the rest of the group's parents, yet he still thinks that a school counselor who thinks that aliens are just for the X-Files is somehow going to help me? How does that compute, Dad?
> 
> I wish I could share this with someone. I wish there were someone to unload on. But the only two people I might have considered doing that on, are the killer, and her victim. 
> 
> I guess I could go to Isabel. I know she feels something for me, there have been moments when the tension is palpable between us. But she's not ready to do anything about it, yet, and I respect that. I miss Alex, too, and I'm still messed up about Tess. If I had been in love with her, I know I'd be a wreck.
> 
> She still might talk to me. But I don't think I should go. We all need our space, and I think that at 5:30 am, she deserves hers more than ever.
> 
> ****
> 
> Valenti
> 
> Amy Deluca just called me. Apparently, Maria never went home last night. I asked her if this was the first time this had happened, and she said no, but she wasn't at Liz's, and she was worried. I didn't tell her that I have a pretty good idea where her daughter is, because this time she might go after Michael with more than a newspaper.
> 
> My son thinks that's an excruciatingly funny story, by the way.
> 
> So, I told Amy that I'd call around, see if I could find Maria. But Michael wouldn't answer his phone, so I decided to head over there.
> 
> Surprisingly, the apartment is empty. The sheets are rumpled, and there's a few of what I assume are Michael's clothes on the floor, but no sign of the couple. Which is unusual, considering that it's only six in the morning, and neither of them has to be anywhere until at least eleven.
> 
> Grabbing Michael's phone, which I find after some ginger poking through stuff I don't even want to know the chemical composition of, I call the next number I can think of: Isabel's.
> 
> Isabel has agreed to keep her cell phone on and with her at all times, both for her parents state of mind, and for the rest of ours. It's a useful tool right now, because I need to talk to her, but don't want to dial her home line, and risk waking the Evans'. 
> 
> Maria answers it. "Hello?"
> 
> A little surprised, I nonetheless don't question it. "Maria, your mother called me, looking for you."
> 
> A hand covers the mouthpiece of the phone, and I can hear her relay the message to someone else. A moment later, Michael's voice exclaims in a muted tone. "Shit!"
> 
> Maria gets back on the phone. "Does she know where I was?"
> 
> I smile a little. I'm don't want to lie for Maria, but there's no way I'm going to tell her mother the truth. Amy DeLuca would kill me if she knew that I had even suspicions that Michael and Maria were sleeping together, and didn't tell her. "How could I? I have no idea where you were."
> 
> Maria breathes a sigh of relief, and I hear her talk to Michael again. He breathes out forcefully, and I hear the phone change hands. "Sheriff?" 
> 
> It's just habit, they all call me that. "Yeah?"
> 
> "Thanks."
> 
> "Sure, Michael. Now, what are you doing at Isabel's at six in the morning?"
> 
> A note of tender excitement creeps into his usually rough voice. "The baby's coming."
> 
> "What?!"  
"Mary's on her way."
> 
> "Will she be alright? She's only seven and a half months."
> 
> "Almost eight, actually. And Max and I felt around, we think she'll be fine. Maybe we misjudged her age a little when we... you know."
> 
> I let this sink in for a long moment. "Why didn't you call?"
> 
> "The doc told Isabel that first babies usually take a long time, and by everyone's calculations, she's still a long ways from delivery. It's six in the morning. We thought we'd let you sleep."
> 
> "Thanks, but we're on our way." I hang up with Michael, and rush home, skirting the speed limit the whole way.
> 
> ****
> 
> Kyle
> 
> We made plans for Mary's arrival had been made the moment she entered Isabel's body, and our care. Isabel managed to convince her parents that she wanted a home birth, and though still young, the doctor had discovered her fit for it. He didn't recommend first babies as home births, but didn't think Isabel would have any particular trouble.
> 
> Max and Michael decided that the benefits of having a midwife on hand outweighed the risks. There would be no extreme tests performed on Isabel or the baby, and Mary was presumed human at this point. Also, this way, she would be a legitimate child, with birth certificates and records and other paperwork which would be needed later in her life.
> 
> But the midwife had left instructions, and told us to call her when Isabel's contractions were five minutes apart. So I spent the morning alternately watching the show, which included both Michael and Liz trying to calm Maria's nervous excitement, and Max pacing with quiet anxiety, and feeding Isabel ice chips and water.
> 
> At first, she insisted she felt fine, that the contractions only felt like a stomachache, but later on, she gripped my hand pretty hard, even while maintaining that she only wanted to watch a movie and wait for things to happen. 
> 
> So, we spent our early morning watching Titanic, us guys having to deal with our girls drooling over Leo, and the girls having to put up with the fixated, catatonic stares that were aimed at the television when Kate Winslet stripped. Max and Iz's parents got up at seven, a little surprised that we hadn't woken them, but Isabel assured them that they hadn't been needed, and we'd wanted them to get their sleep.
> 
> They also commented on the number of people in the room, and we'd explained, with a lot of shrugs all around, that we just sort of did everything together, and Isabel had elected for us to be present. She was going to tell Max and Michael to shoo when active labor began, but the girls were to stay.
> 
> I caught that she didn't tell me whether I was going or not. I didn't push it, thinking that maybe she hadn't made up her mind yet.
> 
> Now, we're just waiting for Mary to make her move. Isabel's contractions are seven minutes apart, and the movie is almost over. The room is filled with nervous tension, and Max gave up sitting still a long time ago. Isabel's glaring at him for pacing, but I think he can't help it.
> 
> It's been six minutes since her last contraction, and she clutches her stomach with one hand, and my hand with the other, throwing her head back a little. She still doesn't make a sound, though. She hasn't, this whole time.
> 
> I feed her ice chips, hoping that she doesn't break my hand before this day is over, and half-watching the movie out of my other eye. The bow of the ship is sinking, and Jack is telling Rose not to let go of her hand. Michael and Maria are all cuddly on the other end of the couch, obviously identifying with the characters at least a little, and Max is _still_ pacing.
> 
> That contraction over, the ships sinks. And... five minutes! Time to call the midwife.

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary3.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	5. Chapter Five

****

Mary

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc. Plus, I know next to nothing about childbirth, except the stuff you read in books, so forgive my ignorance.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Rating: By chapter.

> CHAPTER FIVE--PG-13
> 
> Liz
> 
> Remember me telling you that I admired Isabel? Well, right now, I really would, except I don't have time to. Maria either can't or won't sit still, Michael is getting fed up with her wandering away every other second, Max is in almost as bad shape, and Isabel's keeping Kyle plenty busy. Sometimes it feels like I'm the last sane person in the house.
> 
> Mr. and Mrs. Evans went out a few minutes ago, promising to be home in half an hour. Plus, Isabel told them to stay out, I think because she doesn't want their doting. I know, from experience, that parents who only want the best for you are the hardest kind to deal with.
> 
> The ice chips are now disappearing more rapidly than the Evans' meager refrigerator can produce them, so Max is helping them a little with his powers. Maria says that with the right situation and concentration, Michael's powers are vastly improved, and might be up to the task, but I'm sure he's under too much stress right now. Anyway, it's good for Max to have something to do. He's getting under everyone's skin wearing tracks in the rug.
> 
> The doorbell rings just as Max finishes chipping the last block of ice he created with his powers, and Maria goes to answer it. I hope she doesn't scare the midwife away.
> 
> Apparently, she doesn't, because a moment later, an older woman with graying hair and a little bit on the plump side comes hurrying into the house. She's carrying a bag and Maria has a couple more, and everyone's rushing to her side at once, except for Kyle, who is still physically attached to Isabel by way of her iron grip. I bet he's thinking that alien powers really suck right about now.
> 
> The woman looks around at the crowd of teenagers, a confused look on her face. "Well, hello all," She greets us. We all nod back, and she walks over to Isabel, who's still on the couch, apparently determined to see the last minutes of a movie she already knows by heart, just because she feels like it. That's Iz for you.
> 
> It would be really hard for the general population of West Roswell High to believe, but Isabel can be a real sap when she's in the right mood. Realistic romanticist, that's what she likes to call herself. We all laugh, and call her a romantic dreamer.
> 
> Kyle looks up, and greets the woman. "I would shake your hand," He says, "But it's a little busy at the moment." The midwife smiles and laughs, replying that she's seen that before.
> 
> "Father to be?" She asks, and Kyle nods. The woman seems a little less... enthusiastic when she learns that the baby she is delivering belongs to parents not yet out of high school, but she maintains her demeanor pretty well. "Well, good luck."
> 
> The midwife tends to Isabel pretty much after that, telling her what to expect, and what's going to happen, and what she should do, and through it all, Isabel remains silent. I guess she's made some kind of pact with herself, because I've seen all the childbirth home videos, and school ed videos, and I've never seen a woman stay silent through the whole ordeal.
> 
> Max and Michael are getting nervous, obviously afraid that at any moment they're about to see more of their sister than they ever wanted to. They prance around, always staying 'out of the way'. Their words, by the way.
> 
> I always do that, calling Isabel Michael's sister, at least in my head. They're not related by blood, but they were raised so much together, and behave so much like siblings, that it's hard for me, who's known them two or three years now, not to think that way.
> 
> Moments pass by slowly, and Kyle looks like he's in serious pain from Isabel's grip. Still, I admire the fact that he doesn't tell her to let up. The midwife is checking all sorts of weird equipment, and some more normal looking stuff, like blankets and baby clothing, and Max and Michael have left. I'm not really sure where they went.
> 
> Isabel is glancing out of the side of her vision at Kyle, over and over again. I can tell that's she's unsure what to do, but I'm not going to help her. This is her decision, though it won't be if Maria gets there first. 
> 
> "Maria!" I call from the kitchen, fully aware that nobody needs anything in the living room. She comes at a half-jog, barely keeping her balance in the heeled boots that would look so weird with her outfit if she were anyone but Maria. 
> 
> "Yeah?"
> 
> "Could you go outside and watch the front door? Isabel wants you to tell Mr. and Mrs. Evans to go around the back way when they come home." Isabel wanted no such thing, and there was no reason for it, but I needed to get Maria out of Isabel's hair, and in the chaos of Mary's birth, when the Evans's really did get back, there'll be no questions, I'm pretty sure.
> 
> She nods, looking back at the living room, where people are talking in low voices, but nothing unusual, still. Except for maybe the silence. "Sure, Lizzy."
> 
> I smile, listening to her unconsciously call me the nickname that I haven't heard in months, maybe a year or more. She uses it when she's under pressure, so I guess it's a good indicator of how she's feeling. Not that it's ever hard to tell how Maria's feeling. She wears her heart, her head, and her entire thought process on her sleeve.
> 
> "Thanks, 'Ria."
> 
> ****
> 
> Max
> 
> Isabel said that she was going to kick the men out of the house when she was ready for us to be gone, but it turns out she didn't need to. We left of our own volition. I'm wondering a little if I should have stayed, but the thought of seeing that much of my sister is just a little shivery-making. And not in a good way.
> 
> Michael came with me, but Kyle's still inside. I know he'll leave as soon as Isabel asks him to. Of all of us, and of the entire female population minus Liz and Maria, she's the only one he can still stand. Most women really cause him to clam up, because of Tess, I guess. 
> 
> Right now, when Mary's about to be born, I can't help but think about my own child, my little boy who's now more than four months old. I can't help but wonder who's raising my son, whether my sworn enemy has taken my child as his own. If Tess is still alive. 
> 
> I know that they all think I despise the sound of her name, but really, I just don't want to think about it. Tess. One simple word. But it scours up all of this confusion and other un-named, unwelcome feelings in my head, and what with all that's going on, I can't afford to be distracted at the moment.
> 
> It's hard, to live on this planet, and not be of this earth. It used to be harder, before I found out that not all humans are evil, that not all of them are out to get us. That some of them can even love me, when I'm not being a complete jerk. But it's still just a little more complicated than the average teenager's life.
> 
> My parents don't know that I have a child. All they know is that I was out late one night, and had to do a bunch of chores to make up for it. All they know is that I threw a fit about something, something which I wouldn't talk to anyone but Isabel about. Nothing new there.
> 
> It's scary, that they're so used to it. That my family has gotten so accustomed to my odd behavior that they no longer consider it anything even out of the ordinary.
> 
> We've all changed these past years. Learned to trust a few humans, learned that trust can never be given without repercussions. Did our best to watch each other's backs and keep all of ourselves, and later, Maria, Liz, Alex and Kyle, alive. It's actually pretty amazing, what with all the stunts that this little group pulls, that we haven't been killed by now.
> 
> I'm not the boy I used to be. The events of the past few years have been enough to turn me into a man, alien or not. And I don't mean the fact that I slept with Tess. That's just part of the saga. What I really mean is the emotional maturity that comes with fighting the battles I've fought, and seeing the things I've seen.
> 
> The people I know say that though I used to be quiet, I've never been like this. The people I don't know so well ask me what's wrong, and the people I count among my acquaintances at school, whisper about me behind my back. I know, I can hear them. Alien powers aren't just abused by Isabel, though I like her to think that.
> 
> The rest of them are different, too. Michael has mellowed a little, gentled with time. He's let Maria into his heart, surprising all of us, and shocking me and Isabel, who never thought we'd see someone get under his skin. He's learned to defy me without flaunting it, and he's learned to sit back a little, instead of insisting on a front row seat.
> 
> But most of all, he's learned that being in love can be the most amazing thing in the world. Caring for someone like that, it screws with your head. Mixes up your priorities, until the only thought left is to keep the one you love safe and happy.
> 
> And the last alien of our little group. This year has been triply hard on Isabel. So many things have happened that she felt she had no control over, and I've promised her that I'll try not to let that happen again.
> 
> She didn't want to leave our home, didn't want to part with the only family we've ever known. But she came, because she knew that she couldn't be happy here without me. And though for a moment it makes me feel warm inside, knowing that's how much she loves me, it chills me too. Because Isabel is a strong person, and she's survived too much already, but I imagine my loss will be among those suffered by her, eventually. And I need her to go on, even when I can't.
> 
> She lost Alex, only after she'd opened her heart to him for the first time, but she stayed strong, because she knew she had to. I'm supposed to be the backbone here, but really, if Isabel falls apart, everything does. She is the walls, the frame, the foundation of our little circle, and she has stayed as strong as she did many times for our sake.
> 
> And now... she's gone diving into this. I know I'm putting too much pressure on her, but I don't know how to lighten the load. This has to be done, and it's a little late to pin it on Maria or Liz. 
> 
> Luckily, for her, I think that Kyle has been _her_ backbone. They've really been holding each other up, which I admire. It's never a good thing for one person to be the spine of the relationship, because then, when they collapse, there's nothing left. Kyle and Isabel hold each other up, thereby sharing the weight. 
> 
> Liz... Liz isn't a girl anymore. I'm sad to say it, but I don't really know the person she's become. We've grown apart this past year, and things have happened. I know now that she didn't sleep with Kyle, but it really doesn't change anything anymore. The feelings, the repercussions, the anger and hate and yelling and distrust, they're all over and done with. There's no way to un-do them, even if the act can be erased.
> 
> I don't want to even think it, but there may be no future left for us. I know we can still help each other, hold each other up like Kyle and Isabel do, but I don't know if we'll ever regain the trust necessary for a real relationship.
> 
> I guess, trite as it is, time will tell.
> 
> Maria is the last of us who's come through this fairly unscathed. I have no doubt that she's been affected profoundly, but for the moment, she has the fairytale. For the moment, she has Michael, and she has the love, and the care and the support that all of us crave. I think she knows that Liz, Iz, Alex and I have all been there before, because she basks in it, openly enjoying the calm waters while she can.
> 
> We're changed people. Too much has happened for us not to be. We try to maintain some semblance of our old lives, but we aren't those children anymore. We've all faced heartache, and we've all seen betrayal. We've all caused pain, and we've all received love.
> 
> For most of us, it didn't last. 'We're young, we have time to get it right'. That's what people tell us. But we're not blind, we can see Isabel, pining for a man who will never come back. We're not invincible, and we won't be around forever. We have to seize the day.
> 
> Still, we're all too scared. 
> 
> ****
> 
> Maria
> 
> The front porch is boring. Max and Michael are both contemplating their shoes, thinking about what that went wrong in the universe today is their fault. Honestly, I love these boys, but they're both bent on blaming themselves for everything from the invention of the nuclear bomb to the thinning of the ozone layer! Someday, they're gonna have to give it a break, right?
> 
> I can't stand still, and I know it. I'm hopping nervously from one foot to the other and back again, and every once in a while, Michael looks up and gives me that look that says 'You're-bugging-me-_again_-and-being-Maria-and-I-love-you-but-could-you-not-move-so-much!' I swear, that's what that face says.
> 
> I know why Lizzy sent me out here. I may be flaky and sort of superficial on a day-to-day basis, but I'm not dumb. I was bugging people. So, she won't mind if I go back inside... as long as I don't bother anybody, right?
> 
> Oh, who cares if Liz gets annoyed! I'm not missing this baby's birth for nothing!
> 
> I pull open the screen door and stride inside, momentarily catching the boys' attention as I remove myself from the brood-scene, both of them following me longingly with their eyes as I disappear into the house. They'd never admit it, but they're both big softies, and they'd love to be here when the baby wails her first discomfort.
> 
> Unfortunately, both Isabel and they agree that being there would be a serious case of TMI, and I'm reluctantly in agreement as well. It just isn't right for brothers to see that much of a sibling, at least not past the point of puberty.
> 
> Kyle is still at Iz's side, handing her ice chips and providing a hand which by now has white fingernails from her constant pressure. He looks up as I enter the room, and flashes a quick smile, already looking tired. Poor guy, he's got another couple of hours to go, I bet. The doctors said that first babies never arrive quickly.
> 
> I return Kyle's smile with a much more energetic one of my own, and head into the kitchen. I guess I'll have to forget so much as the idea of meddling, or Liz will send me off to do some nonsense job, again. She's just doing her best to let Isabel decide, I guess. But meddling is my own way of trying to make things go right, and I'm just trying to help her do what I think she should do.
> 
> Things go on this was for another hour, and then the first sound I've heard out of Isabel all day comes from the living room. Liz and I both rush in, and watch Isabel's face screw up in pain, a couple of small moans coming from her throat as she does so. Kyle's stroking her face with an ice-cold hand, dipping it in the melted ice chips to keep it cold, every once in a while.
> 
> The midwife checks on things, and looks up at Isabel, who's panting a little, and sweaty, but appears non the worse for wear, really. "Soon," She tells the young soon-to-be mother, and rises, heading for the kitchen to get ready for Mary's birth. Mr. and Mrs. Evans are waiting in the doorway, wanting to be there as much as possible, but unable to come any closer, per Isabel's instructions. They have to leave all the way when she goes into active labor, too.
> 
> I can see her looking at Kyle through glazed eyes, and I know that though he doesn't know it, she's sizing up his performance, wondering if he can handle himself through the delivery, and then wondering if she wants him there. I catch her eyes and smile, trying to hold back from telling her that I think Kyle should stay. 
> 
> I know I would want Michael to stay, and I know Isabel would want Alex to stay, but this isn't Alex's baby, and Alex isn't, can't, be here. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd want Max around, either, nice guy though he is. It would just be too weird. Of course, Isabel is closer to Kyle than I am to Max, so I'm not really sure what she'll decide.
> 
> The midwife returns with Liz, carrying some stuff for her. Isabel is biting her lip and moaning a little again, her head moving back and forth, not quite thrashing. She catches her mother's eye, and Mrs. Evans ushers herself and her husband away, closing the door as she goes, reluctantly as she might. Isabel made this deal with her parents months ago.
> 
> The midwife checks on the baby's progress again, and Isabel takes one last look up at Kyle. When the midwife puts the blanket down again, she pushes it higher on Isabel's legs, and nods. "You're ready, Isabel. When the baby wants to come, push."
> 
> Isabel nods, and throws a final glance to Kyle, who smiles back. I never noticed, but he has a really sweet smile when he looks at Isabel. He really cares about her. Then, Isabel's body tenses, and I can see her muscles bear down. The midwife coaches her now, and she reaches out with her other hand to grab onto Kyle's. 
> 
> I guess he's staying.

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary3.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary4.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary6.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	6. Chapter Six

****

Mary

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Rating: By chapter.

> CHAPTER SIX--PG
> 
> ****
> 
> Kyle
> 
> I don't know what the hell I'm doing. But that's what the midwife is for, or at least it's what I keep trying to tell myself, mostly to keep myself from being scared shitless, I'm sure. 
> 
> Isabel's been watching me for a while now, and I know she's trying to decide if she wants me to stay while Mary's born, but I don't give any sign that I know. I want to stay, but the last thing I want to do is make Isabel uncomfortable, so I pretend that I don't know why she keeps looking up at me. 
> 
> Silently, though, my heart cried with joy when she grabbed my other hand a moment ago, clenching her teeth and holding me in a death grip, trying to get little Mary into the world. All I can do for her is be here, and I'm glad that she's allowing me that much. I was really afraid that she wouldn't.
> 
> About five minutes later, Isabel cries out for the first time. It's just a little sound, but it's a cry of pain, and since it's the first real sound she's uttered, my heart clenches. I know she's in real pain, and I wish Max could help her, but I understand completely not wanting to have her brother here with her during this time. Besides, what would we do about the midwife?
> 
> Isabel never screams. She cries more and more as Mary comes closer to joining us, but never does she shriek. That's like Isabel, in a lot of funny ways, actually. For long periods of time, she doesn't let the world know her pain, and then when she does, it's in a calm, rather orderly manner more often than not. That's how we knew how mad Max made her this last year, when he refused to let her leave Roswell. 
> 
> Mary's head crowns thirty-five minutes into Isabel's active labor, and the rest of her follows pretty quickly. She's born at three forty-seven in the afternoon, on September 4, 2001, and she's the smallest, wrinkliest, reddest being I have ever seen.
> 
> The midwife wraps her in a blanket and hands her to Isabel, who grins down at the infant. I know that this isn't exactly how Isabel wanted to spend her young adulthood, but she's been living with the baby for four months now, and she's obviously formed a bond with her. No matter how much trouble she knows Mary will cause, Isabel loves her daughter.
> 
> A moment later, the midwife, a big smile on her face, hands the infant to me. Isabel closes her eyes halfway in a clear gesture of exhaustion, but smiles to me. The midwife encourages her to help a little as the placenta is expelled, and Isabel tries, but even with her alien strength, she's too tired. Still, it comes out with a little help, and the nurse weighs it.
> 
> Reluctantly, I part with Mary so that the midwife can weigh her, too, and examine her. She'd cried readily from birth, which was why we were allowed to hold her right away, but now the midwife had to check her for less obvious problems. 
> 
> She weighs six pounds and an ounce, small, but out of danger zone by far, and she's pronounced healthy very quickly. I breathe a sigh of relief, and Isabel smiles tiredly. My daughter is fine.
> 
> And that's the first time I call her my daughter, even after all this time of knowing that I was going to have one.
> 
> ****
> 
> FOUR YEARS, NINE MONTHS LATER
> 
> Max
> 
> It's hard to believe that all this time has passed since Mary's birth. Sometimes, it seems so much like it was a week ago, rather than more than four and a half years ago. I still picture Mary in her mother's arms more often than by herself, on the bus she takes every day to Kindergarten at the local elementary school.
> 
> Mary hasn't exhibited any conscious alien powers yet, but she's shown enough signs of some unconscious ones that we're very careful about getting her tested, or anything like that. It's amazing how much has to be done. How many forms that Isabel or Kyle have to sign confirming that they don't want their daughter to have any blood tests, no matter what, how someone has to somehow get a chance to clean the needles on the syringes used to give Mary her vaccines, and even more than that.
> 
> Mary also has grown faster than expected, which is why she's in Kindergarten now. By the time she was nine months old she'd said her first word, when she was a year old, she could walk. When she was two, it was full sentences at the level of a child a year older than her, when she was three, she could both tie her shoes and write her name. 
> 
> Now that she's four, she can read a little, write fairly well, talk _very_ well, and is basically at the intelligence level of a six-year-old, we were told by the school testers at the beginning of the year. She'll probably have to skip a grade later in her life, to make up for her slightly noticeable faster growth rate, both physical and mental.
> 
> But despite the problems, both obvious and otherwise that she causes on a regular basis, Isabel and Kyle love their daughter, and Mary knows it. She has an extended family of Uncle Max, Uncle Michael, and Auntie's Maria and Liz, though we encourage her to call us all by just our first names. On a slightly different note, Isabel and Kyle named Sheriff Valenti, and Amy DeLuca, whom he married when Mary was two, our little girl's godparents, as well as grandparents, at their wedding.
> 
> Michael and Maria tied the knot two years out of high school, when Mary was three. Maria's mother wasn't particularly happy about it, but she has learned to love Michael, and has come to the decision to trust that he won't leave her daughter like Maria's father left her. 
> 
> Isabel and Kyle never did get married. Their relationship has always been a hidden one, and even I'm not really sure what it is. They're more than just friends, but I'm not sure how much more. They want to present Mary with the most normal family as possible, though, so they do live together and raise her together.
> 
> Liz and I... well, Liz and I is complicated. We both say we're past the Tess fiasco, but the truth is, until I know what happened to my son, who's now five, and if Mary's growth is any indication, probably at least nine or ten on the level of a human child, we'll never really be past it. We live together, and I know that she loves me, and I love her, but we've never really gotten back that blind trust that made our relationship so special in high school.
> 
> Isabel and Kyle lived in our house for about a year after Mary was born, until Kyle graduated and got a job that paid enough to make rent. They moved again when she was three, into a bigger place, and of all things, bought a dog. I'd never known that Isabel had a thing for dogs, but given a few quiet years in which to relax and live as a human, more and more things that I didn't know about her started to surface, that only one of several.
> 
> So, six months ago, a huge, fluffy puppy Newfoundland called 'Not The Milky Way', moved in with them.
> 
> Mary named him.
> 
> We've never told Mary where she comes from. Isabel and I both agree that she's too young, and besides, there's the question of where she really does come from. She is partially alien, but that may only be because of Isabel's blood, and more dominant cells and genes being so important to her development while she was in-utero. For all we know, she was conceived by a perfectly human couple. But she seems to have some kind of intuition about her place in the universe.
> 
> About two months ago, I took her to the lookout where my son had been conceived, the first time I'd gone back since that fateful day, and showed her all the planets. She asked about them like a small child would, and then she looked at me with the big blue eyes, all the intelligence and innocence at the same time in them, and asked, "Max, which one is home?"
> 
> I told her that Earth is home.
> 
> Unwilling to draw suspicion to us in any way, I convinced her to let us call the puppy 'Notty'. To the unknowing observer, it will sound like Isabel and Kyle simply let their child name the big, fumbling puppy Naughty, which is hardly completely untrue.
> 
> Today is her last day of Kindergarten. Liz and I are picking her up at the school-bus stop, and we're taking her out to ice cream to celebrate. Then, we're all meeting at Iz and Kyle's, because they said they wanted to tell us something. I don't know what they want to say, but I try hard not to worry much, because nothing alien has happened in a long time.
> 
> We expected to be bombarded after Mary's birth, because if Isabel, Michael and I saw in our dreams the importance of Mary's existence to the survival of the human race, then a lot of other aliens could have, too. But everything's been quiet for years, and we're all starting to relax a bit.
> 
> Mary chats happily about her day in school, and Liz and I laugh and smile, asking questions about her projects, and her friends. We eat our ice cream in peace, and again I'm amazed that Mary is as open with us as she is. It's almost like she realizes that we're all her parents, all her caretakers. 
> 
> We've done our best to make sure that she has a mommy and daddy to tell people about, but we've also tried to all be very close to her. Because, as morbid as the idea is, not all of us might survive that long, and we need Mary to trust all of us, and be able to live with any of us, should it become necessary. 
> 
> If we ever need to hide her, her closeness to all of us could be her key to safety.
> 
> The life of a prophesied part-alien child isn't easy, though she doesn't have to know that yet.
> 
> I push that out of my head, though, focusing on the more greener pastures of today, making myself stop thinking about the potential future trouble. The future's in the future, and I've learned to leave it well enough alone.
> 
> She's wearing a little purple backpack, and her dark brown, almost black hair is about shoulder-length, and loose. She looks physically like an old five, or maybe six. Her eyes are blue, and she's strongly built, not a delicate child. Luckily, Kyle and Isabel are like night and day, in terms of appearance, so there are no worries about people seeing traits in Mary that don't show in either parent.
> 
> She's missing two teeth, her first one gone about six months ago. We told her the usual tooth fairy myth, and gave her something very special as her gift-An amulet with the Antarian peace symbol carved on it. We told her it meant peace in another language. She didn't ask more at the time.
> 
> My mind wanders briefly to what Isabel and Kyle are doing home this afternoon-they both work, usually. With the broad range of people who care for her, finding a sitter is never trouble, so they both hold down full-time jobs, just starting this year. Before Mary went to school, they both worked part-time, so that Mary always had a parent at home, but they've increased their hours now.
> 
> Isabel is a historian. Of all the things in the world, she's a historian. She just got her degree last year after going to community college here in Roswell for two years after Mary was born. Kyle's stuck by his promise, and done his best to put her through school, and seems to have succeeded. She works part-time as a teacher at the community college, and part-time as a librarian.
> 
> Kyle is a cop. He went to a couple of years of college, decided it wasn't for him, and got a job on the force. We're lucky, because though none of us wanted to push them, we needed an insider on the police side, and Sheriff Valenti was just about ready to retire. Though we didn't want to ask him to do it, we were all glad that he did.
> 
> Liz is a biologist, and works for the zoo, about 45 minutes from here as a researcher in the endangered species re-population program. She loves her job, and can talk about it for hours. I'm just glad she got to be what she really wanted out of life, even through all this alien crap.
> 
> Michael works for the Crashdown, and Maria is an assistant manager at a nightclub. Both of them say that there's time for college and 'real' jobs later. I've done my best not to criticize them, because they both seem happy in their chosen professions. Plus, it's been nearly two years, and they still act like newlyweds.
> 
> I run the Museum of Alien Artifacts, as I renamed it after being given ownership. Brody, deciding that time was precious, much to precious to waste working, gave me the deed to the museum, all the stuff, and a half a million dollars to run it with until I got my legs under me. He did all of this at our graduation ceremony, Sidney on his hip. I've never been happier in my life that I 'abused' my alien powers that night.
> 
> Mary grabs her backpack, and starts to hop off the tall stool. Liz grabs her arm and holds her still. "Whoa!" She goes for Mary's face with the napkin, and the little girl ducks, giggling. Liz smiles, grabs her gently by the hair, and wipes her face, Mary grimacing all the way through it.
> 
> Mary slips off the stool, and heads for the door. "C'mon, Max, Liz! Mom and Dad have a surprise, and they said they'd tell me what it is when we got home!"
> 
> I smile, and take Liz's hand, exchanging glances with her as we walk out the door, and towards the car.
> 
> ****
> 
> Isabel
> 
> Holding Kyle's hand nervously, I wait for Max, Liz and Mary to knock on the door. He smiles at me, but nothing really changes. I'm still shaking in my boots. And all of this isn't really helped by the nausea, either.
> 
> Dropping his hand quickly as I hear Max's key in the lock, I settle into the couch, trying to think only of Mary, and her reaction. That isn't quite so scary, and I'm up, off the couch in seconds, heading towards her, ready to hear about her last day of school.
> 
> But Mary wants nothing to do with telling me about school. She's told me about school all year long, and she's told Max and Liz today, I'm sure, and now she just wants to know what the surprise we said we had for her is.
> 
> I hope Max takes this better than the mental picture I have of the way he might.
> 
> The door swings open a second time as Maria knocks softly on it, pushing the not-quite-latched door in on its hinges. It creaks a little, something that I complain about incessantly, but Kyle says it adds character. "Hey," I greet her, and Michael on her heels. "I guess you all want to know what I have to say, right?"
> 
> Everyone nods, some more eagerly than others, Mary literally bouncing up and down, then throwing herself into my lap. "Careful, sweetie," I tell her. "You're going to need to be more gentle on Mommy's tummy now."
> 
> Kyle reaches over and takes my hand, something I'm sure he's glad to finally be able to do. We've kept our relationship secret long enough, and it's time to get it out in the open. 
> 
> Liz's eyes light up with understanding the quickest, then Maria's. Mary and the guys are still puzzled, so I can see I'm going to have to explain a little further. I take a deep breath, and spit it out. "I'm pregnant."
> 
> Maria squeals, and Liz comes forward more sedately to congratulate me, but silence reigns from Max and Michael's respective corners of the room. They're both open-mouthed, in shock, I think. I wait anxiously for their reactions.
> 
> Kyle hugs me to his side, and I kiss his cheek. Maria exclaims a little, in sort of a wordless cry of happiness, and says, "I knew that you couldn't have that little of a relationship all this time!"
> 
> Kyle grins at me, and suddenly I look down at Mary, who's been quietly contemplating us adults this whole time. "So, sweetie, what do you think?" I ask. "You're going to be a big sister!"
> 
> Mary looks at me, and I hug her too, trying to make sure she isn't feeling left out. "Like Justina has a little baby brother?" She asks calmly.
> 
> I nod. "Just like Justina has a little baby brother. Only you might have a little brother or sister," I tell her.
> 
> She grins up at me, and I relax with her first real emotion over the whole deal. "Neat!"
> 
> I hug her, relieved that she's excited, and kiss her forehead. She turns around, and snuggles into my arms. "I'm gonna be a big sister!" She tells Liz and Maria excitedly.
> 
> By this time, Max and Michael have wandered over, but just been watching this little gathering. I plead with my eyes, asking them to tell me what they think, to tell me that they're not terribly angry, and that I'm not amazingly stupid. After all, this will be the first quarter-alien baby on the planet.
> 
> Max cracks a little smile, and Michael touches me on the shoulder. "Congratulations," He says gruffly. I think he's happy, but not really sure what to say, so I smile back, and tell him thanks.
> 
> "Congratulations, Iz." Max is calm, something I certainly didn't expect. Usually, Max's temper has a way of interfering with his actions, but not today. And I'm certainly grateful for that now, because Max had told me, years ago when I was pregnant with Mary, that the rather unusual balance of our human and alien physicalities could present a higher than average rate of miscarriage. The last thing I need right now is stress.
> 
> "When is he or she going to be born?" Liz asks curiously. I smile up at my brother.
> 
> "Well, Max is going to have to help us tell," I respond. I turn to my daughter. "Mary, can you take Maria into the kitchen and help her make us all some lemonade?" Mary nods eagerly, and hops off my lap, pulling Maria in the direction of the kitchen. I smile at her back as she goes, remembering all the reasons I love her for.
> 
> Max leans over me, and puts his hands on my stomach. It's already slightly swollen, just barely noticeable. "When was the baby conceived?" He asks.
> 
> I look at Kyle. "About a month ago, I guess." He nods in agreement, and I look back at Max. 
> 
> My brother looks me deep in the eyes, and I look back, forcing, willing the connection. I see the flash, and a moment later, it's all over. He looks up at me, and smiles. "They're fine, Isabel."
> 
> I breathe a sigh of relief. My first fear was that the baby would survive because of the atmosphere, like Max and Tess's almost hadn't. But then my brother's use of the word 'They're' started to register, and I looked at him sharply.
> 
> "What do you mean, 'they're'?" I asked him sharply.
> 
> Max smiled. "I mean you're going to have twins, Isabel."
> 
> I just look at him for a long moment, in shock. Then I ask shakily, "How far along are they?"
> 
> Max shrugs. "About twice as far as they should be," He tells me. "But I'm hardly an expert. We'll just have to keep an eye on them."
> 
> I smile up at Kyle. "We're going to have twins!"
> 
> He grins back at me, and hugs me. Max clears his throat to remind me that he's still here, and I turn my attention back to my brother. "Do you want to know what sex they are?" He asks.
> 
> I look at Kyle, unsure. He shakes his head a little. "I mean, unless it's important to you, Isabel." I shake my head.
> 
> "I guess we'll stay in the dark, Max." He smiles, and nods.
> 
> Mary and Maria come back in from the kitchen, Mary running ahead with a glass of lemonade sloshing precariously in her little hands. "Whoa, slow down, Mary-kins," Kyle calls to her as he rises. She stops running, only sort of jogging, now, and he goes to meet her, taking the glasses from her before she spills them.
> 
> She puts a hand on my stomach, and looks down at it. "When are they going to be born, Mommy?" She asks.
> 
> Whoa! "They?" I ask her.
> 
> "Yeah. When are they going to be born?" She looks up at me with the naive, yet extremely intelligent eyes of a little girl.
> 
> "How did you know they're twins, Mary-kins?" Kyle asks.
> 
> She shrugs. "I felt them."
> 
> "You felt them?"  
"When I put my hand on Mommy's tummy," She explains. "I just sort of knew."
> 
> I look up at Max, and he shrugs, like, 'she's your kid, you explain'.
> 
> "Okay," I start slowly, "There's something about that that you should know, Mary." I pull her up and sit her on my stomach. She hops off right away.
> 
> "Why'd you get off, Mary?" I ask, perplexed.
> 
> "You said that I had to be careful about your tummy. I don't want to hurt them."
> 
> I smile at her, and pat my lap. "You won't hurt them by just sitting on my lap, sweetie. And enjoy it while it lasts, because pretty soon, you won't be able to sit there!"
> 
> She looks perplexed, now. "Why, Mommy?"
> 
> I smile. "The babies are growing in my tummy, you know that, right?" She nods. "Well, as they get bigger, my tummy has to get bigger, too. And eventually, my tummy will be great big, and I won't have a lap anymore!"
> 
> She looks surprised, but nods sagely, and hops back into my lap. "That's funny, Mommy."
> 
> "I guess it is, sweetie. Now, you know how you felt the babies just now?" She nods. "I need you to not talk about that to anyone except me and Daddy, Max and Liz, Michael and Maria, and Grandpa Valenti, okay?"
> 
> She nods again. "Why not?"
> 
> "It's... special, Mary. Not everybody can do that. You, and me, and Max and Michael. Liz can do it a little bit. But even though Daddy and Maria and Grandpa Valenti can't do that, they understand. But there are some people in the world who wouldn't understand, and we need to not tell them. Okay?"
> 
> She nods gravely, and I know that even if she doesn't understand, she'll keep her promise, so I smile warmly down at her. "Okay. I know you'll do fine, Mare."
> 
> She nods again. "When are the babies going to be born, Mommy?"
> 
> I look up at Max. "In about four and a half months, sweetie. Right before Halloween."
> 
> She grins. "Wouldn't it be fun if they were born on Halloween?"
> 
> I nod a little. "Well, it would be funny."
> 
> She jumps off my lap, and grabs a doll. "I'm gonna go play, okay?"
> 
> Kyle nods. "Sure. Have fun." He watches our daughter rush off to her room.
> 
> Everyone sits down with a glass of lemonade, but nobody really has anything to talk about. Me and Kyle, basking in the happiness, everyone else in either shock, or I don't know what. 
> 
> My whole being is just flooded with joy, though, and I don't really care about the silence, which would otherwise be quite awkward. But I'm so much in my own world, that I almost don't notice, and when I do, I really couldn't care less.

[[1][2]] [[2][3]] [[3][4]] [[4][5]] [[5][6]] [6]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][7]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][8]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary3.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary4.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/mary5.htm
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [8]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



	7. Chapter Seven

****

Mary

by

Princess McPhee

Disclaimer: I don't claim. Talk to Jason Katims, UPN, WB, etc.

Summary: When the aliens receive news that a little girl, who hasn't yet been born, will save the earth, what must they do?

Rating: By chapter.

CHAPTER SEVEN--PG-13

Mary

Today, me and Mommy went shopping for the babies. She says that they can use my old crib for a while, but then they'll be too big to share, so we went to a store, and she talked to a man in a funny apron about getting another one, and a woman in another apron let me try them out, so that I could tell Mommy which one was most comfortable. We wanted the babies to be comfy.

It's really hot. Mommy said maybe we could go swimming later, but she said that the pool's really crowded in late July, and she doesn't want to get elbowed in the tummy, or anything. She said that maybe Daddy could take me after work, or maybe someone else would want to.

After we went to the crib store, we went to a clothes store, and Mommy showed me some clothes like I wore when I was a baby. They were so tiny! They were the size of the clothes that I put on my dollies. But she says that there isn't very much room in her tummy, and because there's two of them, the babies might be even smaller than I was! We bought them some diapers, and two outfits each. Mommy let me help pick, and I chose two blue outfits, and two purple ones. 

She says that we can buy more clothes when it's closer to the time that the babies are coming, but for now, this is all we're getting. I wanted to buy more, because I like shopping for my baby brothers or sisters, but she said that we had to wait until later, because I would want to shop even more then. I didn't really understand, but I said okay, because Daddy told me it was real important not to make Mommy too upset right now.

He also showed me how to use Mommy's cell phone, and told me that if Mommy ever told me to, I should call him or Max on it, right away. He told me that the babies might need help sometime, and that other people would think they could help, but really, only uncle Max or Michael could do that. He gave me a little card that was just paper, but now has hard plastic all over it, and inside the plastic is Max and Michael's phone numbers, Mommy's, Daddy's, Liz and Maria's cell phone numbers, and our home telephone number. I don't need help for that, though, I already know our phone number.

After we went shopping for a new crib and the baby diapers and clothes, we ran a bunch of boring errands. Then, Mommy went to the baby doctor, which was kind of neat, but then they made me wait outside, and it was really boring. Mommy says that she's going to the baby doctor to make Grandma and Grandpa happy, but she doesn't want to. But then she told me she'd never said that.

Grownups can be confusing.

Now, though, we're going home, and Maria is coming to take me to clay class. I get to spend a whole hour playing with the clay, and making stuff, and when we're done, I get to put my name on it, and bake it, and then I get to paint it the next week, and take it home! Except it has to be cooked again, after I paint it, so it's a long time before I can actually take it home.

Mommy said that to be a good big sister to the new babies, I'm going to have to show them how to be good people. She says I'm going to have to teach them to share, and how to say 'please', and how to wipe their faces after they eat at the table. She says that her and Daddy will teach them, too, but that I'll be real important, because she says babies learn what's right by watching other people. And she says that babies watch their big sisters and brothers a lot.

Mommy and Daddy also told me that when the babies are born, Max and Michael are going to take me out to choose a new big sister toy! She said I can have anything I want, as long as it costs less than the money she's going to give me. She says that it might take a while for the babies to be born, so I shouldn't be worried if I have to stay with Max and Michael all day. She packed me a bag, too, in case I have to stay overnight. She says that babies decide when they want to be born, and nothing she does will be able to hurry them along.

Right after we got home, Maria called and asked if I wanted to go swimming after clay class with her and Michael. Mommy said I could go, so I'm going to get together some floaty toys and rings and stuff to take with me, and put my swimsuit in a bag so that I can change after class. Mommy told me to take my sunscreen, but I hate it, because it's all greasy and yucky. Maria says she'll rub it in really well for me, but I still don't want to.

But I'm not supposed to make Mommy upset, and I don't want the babies to get hurt. So, I said I would wear it. Maybe Maria won't make me.

****

Maria

Isabel's taking a year off from her job as a librarian, so she's only working part-time now. Kyle's been trying to convince her to stop teaching, too, but she's determined not to stop working that job until the little ones actually put in their appearance. It makes it easier to get Mary taken care of, but Isabel still needs her space, so I have a standing date to take her to her clay class, and then off somewhere on Tuesday afternoons, so that Iz can rest.

Today, Michael's coming with me. We don't see as much of each other as we'd like, because I work a night job, and he works usually a day job, but for a while now, he's been working about half nights and half days, so he and I have connected more. Maybe we'll get some time to talk today. Mary's a good kid, and she can pretty much entertain herself, usually.

Right now, I'm thanking the lord for the darkly tinted windows in minivans.

Yes, I know it's a juvenile thing to do, have sex at any possible turn, in any place, (like a minivan), but Michael and I never really got over the juvenile thing. We made it about to seventeen or so, and then we just stopped growing up. That's not to say that we can't take things seriously, Michael especially, but we still have fun. We're still the kind of wild and crazy that most people associate with being in high school.

I straighten my hair in the rearview mirror, Michael leaning his chin on my shoulder, and I take a moment to smile at him. God, it's amazing that we've been together this long. To the outside world, we seem to drive each other crazy, and indeed, often we do. But what the outside world doesn't realize, is that no matter how mad we get at each other, we never stop loving each other.

Now, Michael has a quick and very hot temper. I have a stubborn streak a mile wide, and an imagination and a half. Let's just say that we don't have the calmest marriage in the world. But it works. And that alone, shocks plenty of people. When I brought him to the five-year high school reunion this year, pretty much all of our classmates were shocked.

I look at my watch, and notice that it's time to go get Mary. "Do you want to come, or should I just go pick her up?" I ask, running a comb through the ends of my long hair for the last time.

Michael kisses me on the top of the head. It's his signature move, strictly Michael, and I love it. "I'll come."

We pile out of the car, locking it up and heading towards the art center. As we enter the room, the teacher comes and greets us. Mary, totally ensconced in her work, doesn't even look up. We all smile as we watch her work so seriously on this block of lumpy clay.

"Mary?" Her teacher calls. Mary still doesn't look up. "Mary, your aunt and uncle are here." That's what we tell people, because it minimizes confusion, and more people trust an aunt and uncle picking up a child, than a 'good friend'. 

Mary's dark head shoot up, and she jumps from the table, running to us. "Maria!" She squeals. She holds up the lump of clay. "Look what I made!"

"It's beautiful, Mary." I have no idea what it is.

Michael bends down a bit. "Didn't notice me, huh Mary?" He asks her teasingly.

Mary turns to him. "You can see it too, Michael," She tells him.

He smiles at her. "Thanks."

I hold up her swimsuit. "Want to go to the pool?"

She grabs for it, but I pull it out of her reach. "Give the teacher your project, and wash your hands. Then we can go change."

She nods, and runs off to hand her clay to the female teacher, giving what looks like a nice, long list of instructions about it to her. The teacher holds a serious expression, and nods gravely though all of this, but looks over Mary's head and smiles at us as Mary finally runs off to wash her hands of the goopy clay.

We change pretty quickly, it's hot out and we all want to get to the pool. Mary's swimsuit is a one-piece in bright pink, with purple and blue patterns running over it. "We won't lose you in that," Michael jokes when he sees it.

My suit is more sedate, but a lot more revealing. It's a teal green two piece, not quite bikini. But it definitely shows some skin, and Michael looks me up and down, appraising me as I come out of the bathroom. I know he likes what he sees.

We head to the pool, and leave our stuff in the locker rooms. Michael changes there, into just a plain pair of black trunks. He still, to this day, doesn't like to be noticed, though I've told him time and again that all the girls staring at him are only admiring his body. I don't really get jealous, because he's uncomfortable with the attention, and somehow that makes it okay.

When he decides to ogle another woman, though, that's a different story. He can get in some pretty deep shit for looking at another woman when I'm around. At least, if he doesn't even bother to try and hide it. Liz convinced me years ago that guys look. It's just impossible for them not to. So, I've been trying not to get mad if he at least bothers to hide it.

We swim for most of the rest of the afternoon, though 'swim' may be the wrong word, since Mary most ran in the shallow part of the wading pool, and Michael and I splashed each other like kids. But we got wet, and we weren't so hot, so the purpose was achieved. 

Getting sunscreen on that kid was a crazy experience, though.

****

Kyle

I've always felt, since the day that Mary was born, that she was mine. It doesn't matter that there's no blood relation whatsoever. She grew in Isabel's belly, and anything that's Isabel's is precious to me. But a few months ago, when we realized we'd finally succeeded, that Isabel was pregnant, with my children, some kind of warm, electric shock went through me. It was the pleasantest sensation in the world.

I wouldn't give up Mary if the universe were at stake, but I'm going to treasure being the biological father of these little children, just the same.

What the 'gang' doesn't know is that Isabel and I have been trying for these children since the day Mary turned two. Iz didn't want two babies, and insisted that we wait for Mary to become a genuine toddler before we could throw the contraception out the window.

Ironic, now, that she's getting two babies anyway.

I know Isabel will be the best mother to these babies, and I want to be more of a father to them than I was to Mary when she was an infant. I tried, I really had, but living in separate houses didn't really afford me the best of abilities in terms of fatherly duty-type capabilities. 

I don't think I'll be the best father in world, I'm not delirious. But I want to be the best father that I can possibly be, and I want to raise these kids right, because I want to be able to swear that I did all that was humanly possible for them, when I look back. I figure that I'm already partway there. I'm very happy with the way that we've raised Mary. I just want to continue the trend.

Isabel's two and a half months pregnant, and Max says that the babies feel about half-developed, which means they'll be in the world just about when we thought they would. We're just thanking God that they're healthy, at the moment.

I wish she would stop teaching. We know this pregnancy is precarious. But at the moment, I think that staying home all the time might actually be more stressful for Iz than working, so I haven't fought her decision. At least Michael and Maria and Max and Liz have managed to make themselves available to baby-sit Mary fairly often.

Mary's also back in school, which makes things a lot easier, too. She's in first grade, we're trying her out there, but if she's bored or not learning because it's too easy, she might skip it. We're loathe to have her skip another grade this young, though, because then the option isn't as available when she's older. 

I look down at my watch, and notice that it's just about time for Mary to be getting home. I know the bus comes close to our house, but I still worry, so, on my occasional days off, I watch out the window, to make sure that she gets home safely. Isabel's meeting the bus every day, because she worries even more than I do.

Iz is minimizing her time in public as much as possible, because of possible suspicion about her stomach and it's amazing rate of growth, but if anyone asks, we're simply telling them that she started to show late, and she's making up for lost time. Her parents insist that she go to a prenatal physician, so we're switching doctors every month to keep them from noticing.

Abruptly, the phone on my desk rings. It's rare for me to be actually in the office, but when I am, I have a desk, and a phone, and a computer and everything. Being the Sheriff's pet certainly has it's plusses. 

I pick up the phone, and lazily put it to my ear. "Roswell police department, this is Deputy Valenti. Can I help you?"

A timid little voice asks, "Daddy?"

I'm suddenly alert. "Mary?" She sounds scared. 

"Daddy, Mommy told me to call you. She says that the babies are sick, and that she needs help."

I try to stay calm for my daughter's sake, but my heart is racing. "Okay, Mary. I'm going to hang up so that I can call Max and Michael, but I'm going to call you right back, okay?"

"Okay," She says shakily.

"Alright, Mary. Pick up the phone when it rings, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," She replies, sounding a little more certain. I hang up the phone hurriedly, and punch in Max's number. No answer. Michael's, then. No answer. Damn.

I phone home, and as instructed, Mary picks up the phone. "Hello?" She asks, just as I taught her, less than a year ago.

"Hey, Mare. It's Daddy. I can't get Max or Michael to answer their phones, so you're going to need to help the babies, okay?"

Mary sounds frantic as she replies. "But I don't know how, Daddy!"

I keep my voice calm with a heavy effort. "I know you don't. But you can do it. Just listen to me, and do what I say. And if Mommy tells you to do something, listen to her, okay?"

"Daddy, I can't!" She's panicked. 

"Mary, I know you can. And the babies need you to. So just take it one step at a time, okay? The babies are counting on their big sister for this, alright?"

There's a long pause, and then I hear her fast breathing close to the phone again. "Okay, Daddy."

"Good. Now, are you talking on the walking phone?" I ask her, referring to the cordless telephone we have in the living room.

"Yeah."

"Good. So just walk to where Mommy is, and take the phone with you, okay?"

"Okay." I can hear her feet padding down the hallway, and I suspect she's going in the direction of the bedroom, but at this point, it really doesn't matter. Her feet stop when she's about twenty steps from her earlier position, and I can hear her crouch down to the floor. Oh, shit. If Iz didn't make it to the bed or the couch, this must really be bad.

With the biggest effort I've ever made, I keep my voice from shaking or sounding panicky when my daughter comes back on the line. "What now, Daddy?" She asks.

I take a deep breath. "I want you to hold onto the phone until I tell you to put it down, okay, Mare?" I tell her. "Now, after you put down the phone, this is what you need to do.

"You need to put both of your hands on Mommy's tummy, where we showed you the babies are, and I need you to think really hard about how healthy you want them to be when they're born.

"Can you do that, Mare?"

She sounds unsure, but determined. "Yeah, Daddy."

"Okay. Then put down the phone, Mary."


End file.
